


...To Coldly Go...

by foxtwin



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Book: The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, Music, Portals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-13 18:05:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4531845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxtwin/pseuds/foxtwin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For a rather complete map of locations spanning the Narnia series, I found the following site to be rather helpful:<br/>http://jamisonhartley.deviantart.com/art/Complete-Map-of-Narnia-200995876</p>
    </blockquote>





	...To Coldly Go...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gray Cardinal (Gray_Cardinal)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gray_Cardinal/gifts).



> For a rather complete map of locations spanning the Narnia series, I found the following site to be rather helpful:  
> http://jamisonhartley.deviantart.com/art/Complete-Map-of-Narnia-200995876

Captain James T. Kirk and his landing party surveyed the terrain around them. Snow covered the ground, the trees the only noteworthy vegetation.

Spock turned on the tricorder to gather readings, but what he discovered puzzled him. He cocked an eyebrow. “Captain, as I indicated earlier, this planet has been apparently experiencing an ice age, but one that defies both the laws of nature and planetary physics. Based on its rotation, orbit, and distance from its star, the climate ought to be more temperate.”

“Well, all I can say is I wished someone had mentioned this to me before we beamed down,” Dr. Leonard McCoy complained. “I’m freezing.”

“A vast array of life forms are listed, Captain,” Spock announced.

“Well, then, where are they?” Kirk asked.

“Maybe your tricorder is malfunctioning,” McCoy suggested.

“Exactly what I was thinking, Doctor. Especially given what _kind_ of life forms it is registering.”

McCoy barely stifled a laugh. “What, are there Vulcans on this planet? Any friends and relations, Spock?”

“Not exactly,” Spock admitted.

“Well, spit it out. What are we talking here?” Kirk said. “Polar bears? Mammoths?”

Spock began, listing them in the order recorded on his tricorder. “Badgers, beaver, deer, mice, wolves…” 

“Nothing unusual there,” McCoy said rolling his eyes. “You did say this was an Earth-like planet, right Spock?”

“Indeed I did, Dr. McCoy,” Spock said. ”But I’m not finished yet.”

“Then for the love of penicillin, get to the illogical stuff!” McCoy said.

Spock refused to give McCoy the satisfaction of his usual stare of incredulity. “Very well, Doctor. In addition to all manner of Earth-like creatures adapted to winter, we also have the improbable inclusion of lions, elephants, giants, centaurs, minotaurs, fauns, dwarves, elves, gnomes, dryads, naiads, fairies, ghouls…”

“…Dragons, ogres and trolls?” McCoy posited with a playful smirk. “Spock, your tricorder has got a wild imagination.”

Spock raised his head, looking McCoy directly in the eyes. “Machines do not imagine, Doctor.”

“Spock, don’t most of those creatures of prefer more temperate surroundings?” Kirk asked.

“Indeed. The probability of all of them thriving in these numbers during an ice age would be…”

“Illogical?” McCoy and Kirk said in unison.

“Tell me Spock, what do you think has caused this mysterious ice age?” Kirk asked.

“I do not know, Captain. The presence of mythological creatures from human literature suggests mythological or supernatural phenomena. Strangely, no humans inhabit this planet. It is... curious, Captain. As much as I am aware of the illogical nature of such creatures in an environment such as this, the probability of meeting one of them is rather high... if our tricorder can be trusted.”

“So we’re going by feel?” McCoy’s tone suggested irritation. “And I thought you to be a man of science and logic!” McCoy’s sarcasm was bitten through by Spock’s frosty glare.

Kirk looked intrigued, which seemed to unsettle McCoy.

“Spock, if these mythical creatures are real, and if they exist on this world…” Kirk began.

“Jim, you’re not suggesting that these creatures have interacted with humankind, are you?” Kirk’s look at the doctor confirmed the hunch. “How?” McCoy asked.

“Logically, they might crawl through some sort of interdimensional portal that bends time and space,” Spock said.

“Isn’t that what we’ve encountered already?” Kirk asked. “We’ve encountered creatures and phenomena that have used these portals, wormholes, to travel great distances. We’ve even had creatures invade our minds, our bodies, our speech patterns.”

“Great,” McCoy sarcastically enthused, recalling his childhood lessons in ancient human literature. “So you’re saying that Medusa, a heavenly host of angels, and the Big Bad Wolf all live on this world, and use some sort of portal to teleport to earth and scare the willies out of Perseus, some unsuspecting Jewish shepherds, and the three little pigs… . Are you even _listening_ to yourselves?”

“Illogical _and_ improbable, I know,” Spock replied. “But to prove the Captain’s theory, we would need to find this... wormhole, as he put it.”

McCoy shook his head and mumbled, “Like _that_ is going to happen!”. 

If a wormhole existed nearby, Spock’s tricorder did not register it. The deeper into the snow-laden woods they traveled, the quieter it became. Any indication of wildlife emerging from the brush and foraging for food, the tell-tale paw prints of woodland creatures, was nonexistent. Increasingly, Spock found it impossible to rely on his tricorder. McCoy, already on edge, did not enjoy jumping at the sound of each creaking of the branches. And Kirk, whose theory it had been, was beginning to doubt. Phasers were produced, set to stun. Such was the disquiet within all their minds.

As they slowly made their way through the woods, a curious sight met their eyes – an old-fashioned lamppost. The trio cautiously approached, holstering their phasers.

“What do you make of this, Jim?” McCoy asked. “Kinda strange to find a lamppost in the middle of a forest.”

Kirk did not answer, but looked about for an explanation. A flame burned inside the lamppost, like a candle. “Can you get a reading, Spock?”

“A curious anomaly, Captain. The post is alive. Like the trees around it, it gains its nourishment from roots, though the entire structure is made of a porous iron.”

McCoy studied the lamppost more closely, even daring to touch its tubular stem. “It’s warm.”

“Indeed so, Doctor. It seems to have a constant temperature throughout. Like humans.”

“And the flame?” McCoy asked.

“A combustion of hydrogen and methane, its natural waste products.”

As they stood, discussing and marveling over the lamppost, a creature almost half their size came into the clearing from the north.

“Don’t look now, but we’ve got company,” McCoy mumbled. The three drew their phasers, ready to defend themselves.

“Oh, bless me!” the creature said, dropping some parcels it had apparently been carrying and hurriedly attempting to pick them up. The creature, standing on furry, spindly legs that resembled those of a deer, had two small horns atop its human-like head.

“A faun, Captain. One of the mythical creatures inhabiting this planet,” Spock whispered. Kirk signaled for them to holster their phasers.

The faun, having gathered its parcels, looked at the curious creatures in front of him. “I… Are you… lost?” it asked.

“In a manner of speaking, yes,” said Kirk, stepping forward. “May I ask where we are?”

“Why, you are in Narnia. But, I suppose introductions are in order. My name is Tumnus, a faun in the service of Her Majesty. And you seem to be quite a ways from home. Otherwise, your clothing would be much better suited to our weather.”

“Indeed we are,” Kirk said. “We come from another world entirely.” Kirk pointed toward the sky. “Our ship sent us to explore this... cold, snowy world of yours.”

“Your ship?” Tumnus pointed his bearded chin to the sky, daring to look above him at the forest’s canopy. “From the... sky?”

Kirk nodded. “It is the Federation starship Enterprise.”

“I have never seen a Rayshun, nor fed one. Nor a ship sailing through the sky, let alone the stars. Perhaps I will one day. But, oh, you must be cold. Might I interest you in a place by my hearth and some hot tea?”

McCoy, whose toes and limbs were half-frozen, looked eagerly at Kirk for approval. He needn’t have worried.

“Lead the way,” Kirk said. “We’ll be right behind you.”

The afternoon’s conversation with Tumnus was delightful and cozy. The faun’s modest accommodations were not as roomy as the quarters on the Enterprise, forcing the three to find a place on the floor near the hearth. But the warmth of room and tea along with the engaging conversation provided an intriguing barrage of facts that Spock’s Vulcan mind absorbed. And Tumnus’ enchanting flute playing reminded Spock of his childhood home, taking his mind far in the past, to idyllic locales both visited and imagined. When the flute playing had ended, Kirk and McCoy looked positively at peace, having allowed the melancholy tune to relax them into sleep with light snoring.

Tumnus put his flute down with a satisfied smile.

“Delightful,” Spock said. “You must be the talk of your Queen’s court.”

“Thank you,” Tumnus said, though something in his tone sounded like disappointment to Spock. “Though she only calls herself Queen. She is a witch, if truth be told.”

“A witch?” Spock asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Are there many witches in Narnia?”

“Only one – Queen Jadis. The same I told you about earlier who makes it always winter but never Christmas.”

“And she isn’t pleased with your fine music?”

“No. Well, not yet anyway. You see... well... I can see by the look of your ears you are an elf – regardless of what Rayshun you’ve fed or sky-ship you’ve sailed. Which means you must also be delivering these Sons of Adam to her majesty?” Tumnus pointed to Kirk and McCoy, who were slowly coming out of their relaxed slumber.

Spock’s eyebrows relaxed at the news. “Actually, my companions – the Captain and the Doctor – are on another mission. Apparently there is a portal nearby that might take us to another land entirely.”

“I have heard of such things, though where this portal might be I do not know.” Tumnus was puzzled. “I would lead you there, if I knew the way.”

Kirk roused himself from a delightful maiden-filled dream to find himself in Tumnus’ cozy sitting room. McCoy’s head bobbed next to him, the Doctor attempting to rouse himself as well from some pleasant dream. Spock, from his place near the dying fire, moved nearer the Captain.

“We had best be getting away, Captain. The faun’s hospitality aside, we need to find that portal.” Kirk nodded agreement as McCoy nodded himself to wakefulness.

“What a pleasant dream,” McCoy said, smiling at Tumnus. “And your music was just delightful.” 

At Spock’s urging, and with some awkward farewells, the three crew members found themselves outside of Tumnus’ cave in the emerging light of an early dawn.

“How long did we sleep?” Kirk’s verbalized question seemed to be on McCoy’s mind as well.

“I’d say all night, Captain,” Spock said. “Though I must admit it did seem to be only a few hours.”

Tumnus was behind them as the shock of the cold made McCoy massage his arms in an effort to get warm. The faun, who had seen them to the door, waved his good-byes kindly as they made their way due south.

“W-where to n-now?” McCoy asked, shivering.

“I’d suggest someplace warm, Doctor,” Spock said matter-of-factly. “But the warmth of that faun’s cave seemed to muddle your minds and cause you to sleep like babies. Even I was somewhat affected by its lure, but something the faun said made me wonder whether humans alone were affected by its magic.”

“Magic, Spock?” Kirk asked. “You’re suggesting that this world ignores the rules of science?”

“Indeed, Captain. It seems that the music of the faun’s flute produced a bout of lethargy in you, and me – though not to the same degree. He also called me an elf, which is curious. In addition, the faun suggested he is in league with the Queen, who began this eternal winter.”

“How long has this ice age been around, Spock?”

“Nearly a century from my calculations.”

“Which would make the Queen rather an old woman,” Kirk said. “Except that she is supposedly beautiful -- at least that’s what Tumnus said. Maybe we ought to go visit her, Spock. Find out why she has done this to her people.”

McCoy shot Kirk a look that, were his eyes phasers, would have stunned him indefinitely.

“I suspect, Captain, that would _not_ be in our best interests. She may be old, but whatever science... or magic... she is commanding – it is more advanced even than our own technology.”

Just then, Kirk’s communicator chirped.

“Kirk here. Go ahead.”

“Captain, are you all right?” It was Nyota Uhura. “We’re picking up a disturbance near your coordinates.”

Spock inspected his tricorder. “I’m picking it up as well, Captain.”

“We’re fine, but have Scotty keep our coordinates handy – just in case.”

“Of course, Captain,” she said. “Uhura out.”

Kirk closed the communicator and looked to Spock. “What do you bet that’s our portal, our… wormhole.”

“My thoughts exactly, Captain. It’s located just beyond the coordinates of the lamppost where we met the faun.”

The living lamppost was still warm, and Spock’s tricorder continued to register the disturbance more strongly beyond a stand of trees to the southwest. With cautious mien, the three moved into the thick evergreen forest, the trees brushing against them, pricking them with its needle-like leaves, the closeness of the leaves against them tempering the coldness.

Spock’s tricorder sputtered, and went blank – its usual faint light winking out, leaving them all in darkness. Kirk checked his communicator. It, too, had stopped operating.

“Captain, shall we forge ahead, or attempt to return?”

“I say we continue on, Spock. This... disturbance... this, portal, leads somewhere.”

As close as he thought they were to each other, Kirk reached out for Spock – to his front – and McCoy – to his rear. But instead of either of them, his hand caught a very soft tree branch.

“Spock? McCoy?”

“Here, Captain,” Spock said.

“Right behind you Jim.”

Ahead of them, a faint light shone, indicating a possible exit from this strange forest. It was then that Kirk forced himself to inspect what kind of trees this forest might hold such soft-needled trees. McCoy beat him to the pun.

“Fur-coat trees, Jim?” he whispered. “Seriously?”

It certainly seemed that way.

The light ahead of them disappeared, leaving them again in total darkness. Spock, ever the pragmatist, whispered a suggestion to turn back. A suggestion Kirk and McCoy shared. In the cramped shuffle, something bumped into Spock. Reaching out, he caught an “arm” of the fur-coat tree, missing an opportunity to identify whatever creature had passed him. It missed Kirk, but bumped McCoy and – from the sound of its steps – bounded away to McCoy’s rear.

The urge to follow the footsteps, to discover what had bumped them, proved strong in Kirk. But the pull to discover the source of the light proved stronger, despite whispered misgivings. The light had given them hope. This... creature... that had passed them – it came from the direction of the light.

Kirk was now in the lead, Spock behind him, and McCoy to the rear. Within moments of advancing, a faint light appeared near their feet leading to a... wooden door? Kirk pushed it open, emerging into an empty moonlit room. And they had emerged from... a large wooden closet? A wardrobe?

Their Federation boots echoed in the empty room, drowning out the sound of slippered steps coming down the hall.

“I say!” a bespectacled man in pyjamas exclaimed, causing all three of them to jump. “To what do I owe this honor?”

Kirk turned toward the man. “We... apologize for the intrusion. But... where are we... exactly?”

A soft chuckle emerged from the lips of the pyjama-wearing man. “Why, exactly in my spare room, in jolly old England!”

The look of surprise on Kirk and McCoy’s faces seemed to soften the old gentleman’s own look of consternation.

“The name is Digory Kirke,” he said, by way of introduction. “I can see by your uniform you are neither in the Royal Infantry nor Nazi spies. Yet, you do seem to be some sort of odd police force? Yes, your pistols give you away. 

“I’m Captain Kirk, and these are members of my crew, Mr. Spock and Dr. McCoy.”

“Please, come to my study and tell me how it is you’ve come into my home,” the gentleman said. 

Kirk smiled. “That’s very kind, but I’m not sure you’ll believe what we tell you.”

The old gentleman looked over his glasses at the Captain. “Try me.”


End file.
